In Habana and Cienfuegos, heat and humidity draw people out of their houses and the rhythms of son cubano persuade them to linger, gossip, see and be seen—the promenade of everyday life. Caught in the aspic of time, the old Chevrolets and crumbling buildings appear beautiful, numinous with mystery; only tourists could manufacture such feelings of nostalgia for a past we’ve never experienced! Where a toothbrush is considered a luxury, natives lack sentiment for a universal medical system with no medicine, or superior public education with no jobs. But son cubano plays in the air and the street beckons. On a Sunday afternoon, he wears a perfectly clean and pressed white shirt; she dips her smoothly combed head under a parasol. Between melody and rhythm, the guitar and drum continue the argument of living in the head or heart. These images are moments lived ...

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Entremés Cubano: Cuban Interlude

In Habana and Cienfuegos, heat and humidity draw people out of their houses and the rhythms of son cubano persuade them to linger, gossip, see and be seen—the promenade of everyday life.
Caught in the aspic of time, the old Chevrolets and crumbling buildings appear beautiful, numinous with mystery; only tourists could manufacture such feelings of nostalgia for a past we’ve never experienced! Where a toothbrush is considered a luxury, natives lack sentiment for a universal medical system with no medicine, or superior public education with no jobs.
But son cubano plays in the air and the street beckons. On a Sunday afternoon, he wears a perfectly clean and pressed white shirt; she dips her smoothly combed head under a parasol. Between melody and rhythm, the guitar and drum continue the argument of living in the head or heart.
These images are moments lived by me, suspended from my own life, caught in a short, sweet spell, cast by a sorceress—a toothless, old hag with no particular name. I owe her a treasure chest of jewels, stolen away in a black box, that device we call a camera, a vault for the image of a thing.
To capture and contain the fluidity of life on the street is like pinning a butterfly: how can we depict perpetual motion, flight? Combining the delicate and strong Mulberry paper with the ancient technique of encaustic and final immersion in water, I would like to coax a bit of alchemy out of these materials—releasing the spirit even as its material evidence is contained.

Alejandra Chaverri
03-27-06

Medium: Black and white photographs printed on Mulberry paper using archival pigment inks. Media borders hand deckled then coated with encaustic media—a technique that uses melted beeswax and dammar. The encaustic media applied and fused to the front and back of the print to seal it.